


Territory

by Deadling



Category: Dead Things Series - Martina McAtee
Genre: Don't Kill Me, Ember is clumsy but it works for some reason, I swear the swear is for the atmosphere, Kai still has terrible humor so, an au where Mace is still a brat, and the baby deadling swears, not that alternate of a universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-12-26 14:56:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18284588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadling/pseuds/Deadling
Summary: Ember found herself apart of a group...of thieves and murderers. Granted, the Belladonna pack had a moral compass, something their adversaries the Talbot-Blacks lacked. She had hoped to never run into one of them, knowing how cruel they could be just from stories and never wished the honor of seeing that in person, but as far as confrontations go, Mace was knocked out without much of a fight. Maybe the Talbot-Blacks just hired idiots who were unfairly attractive with terrible nicknames.





	1. Where are you going, Beautiful?

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't kill me. (for the swear and this not being the fanfiction selection :O I'm working on it I swear)

“Ember,” came the hiss from the earphone, causing a burst of static that the owner winced at.

“For the last time,” another voice growled over the network, “use codenames, Quinn.”

“Hypocrite much, dagger?”

“Banshee,” the female corrected, ignoring the laughter coming from her cousin. “Anyway, what is wrong?”

Quinn sighed, letting the static have another opportunity to fill Ember’s ear as she laughed. “Necromancer,” he said pointedly, “is heading into Black territory.”

“Well, shit, thanks for telling me,” Ember snarked back, skidding to a stop on the roof. “Five minutes late.”

Running a hand over her bun, literally the only way her otherworldly curls would stay in one place, Ember started to catalog the surroundings. Now that she actually stopped to look around, the graffiti and small insignias decorating the alleyways beneath her and the rooftops were very apparent. The Belladonna territory isn’t more than 500 feet away from where Ember stood, leaning against the chimney that overlooked the lively street below, but it would take a bit longer so she could be careful. 

She curled her fingers into the worn bricks of the building, a fleeting smile dashing across Ember’s lips as she breathed in the chilled air of the night. A steady stream of people poured out of a bar beneath the mafia member, stumbling over each other with sloppy movements that were barely tolerated by passing civilians.

With an amused roll of her eye, Ember backed up against the roof until she stood where the two planes of shingles met. It wasn’t the most discreet dash the woman had ever done, but there wasn’t time for anything else. Bending down as far as she could, Ember ran across the top of buildings, only sliding once with a yelp as a shingle slid loose without warning. 

Her familiar alleyway was in sight--the one with boxes placed very conveniently for a fast escape from police and--

“Where are you going, beautiful?”

Ember froze in place, fear coiling in her gut as she became very apparent of two amused eyes staring at her back. Cursing every ounce of bad luck she had, the woman turned to the slanted roof where a man was lounging. 

Swallowing back a retort to the nickname that didn’t stick well with her, Ember focused on understanding this new foe. He had mused silver hair--it was definitely dyed and running his hand through it was probably a nervous tick--with a confident smirk that revealed white teeth that flashed in the dark. But it was the eyes that Ember found herself looking at. They looked like mercury had been poured into them, swirling with malicious intent as they gazed intently at Ember.

Oh, that’s right. I’m prey in Black territory. 

“Look,” Ember started, waving a placating hand in his direction she hoped would disguise the subtle press of a button on her earpiece that would destroy the device. She really didn’t need her cousins to try to avenge her if she died here. Or was taken prisoner. Silver-haired boy was hard to read. “I don’t want to hurt you. We can just forget this ever happened and I’ll cross back over into my territory without any questions about why you think silver is a fashionable hair choice.”

The boy looked offended for no more than a second before he summoned the gall to wink at Ember, an action she cringed at. “Well, beautiful, I’m not judging those pretty purple contacts of yours am I? But I suppose you mutts are all the same.”

“Rude,” Ember blurted, glaring at him. “It’s not my fault that we like wolves and you favor the witchy side of things.”

“Side of things,” the boy repeated, almost mockingly. “Were you born this coherent or do I have the pleasure of hearing insults worthy of a coloring book.”

Before she could stop herself, Ember muttered, “there are adult coloring books.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Well said, beautiful.”

“My name isn’t beautiful,” Ember said indignantly, eyeing the alleyway that had never looked so inviting. 

“Well it’s not my place to judge, but if you say--”

“That’s not what I meant!” She groaned. “I just--stop calling me that.”

“What shall I call you then?” Silver-haired boy mused. “That is if you don’t want me to call you mutt for the duration of this conversation.”

“E-Necromancer.”

“Dramatic,” he declared with a huff of laughter, relaxing further against the roof and allowing his shirt to ride up. 

“Oh?” Ember deadpanned. “And what’s yours?”

“Mace.”

“I can’t tell if you actually thought that would be a good idea or not.”

The boy grinned, reaching for his back pocket slowly as Ember freezes. “Well, I was named for my choice of weapon.”

The woman could almost laugh at the weapon he pulled from the back of his jeans. Fearing the worst turned out to be a benefit at this moment because instead of a fearsome spiked ball that would have had logistical problems, he supplied a small can of mace. 

“Full of yourself, huh?” Ember couldn’t resist saying amongst laughter, much to Mace’s dismay. Maybe Kai had spent too much time around her. His terrible sense of humor was rubbing off on her in the worst of ways. 

Not dignifying the play on words with a response, Mace charged toward her, can of much more dangerous mace aimed at her face with obvious intent. Ember smiled, grateful for the first time for the countless training lessons with Wren just then for the fast reflexes. She slid out of the way, shutting her eyes and mouth as tight as she could to avoid the tell-tale hiss of spray before grabbing the small scarf around her neck and pulling it up over her chin. 

Mace grunted with surprise as he fell back away from the cloud of mace, his own idiotic doing, and planted his feet against the roof. 

Ember couldn’t stop the grin that was spreading across her face as she reached for her own weapon, much more conveniently tucked into the belt around her waist. Pressing a button, the steel contraption elongated and the curved point which supported a lot more than one assumed came out of its small container. 

Mace’s expression dropped at the sight of the scythe and Ember’s grin grew. There was a reason Kai had deemed her Necromancer--a name she wasn’t sure of at all. Choosing who dies and lives always seemed evil in her eyes but their leader had assured her that it was them or the enemies and that they were mutually exclusive. Her pack meant more than her pride, so she took the nickname and weapon along with the permission to go out. 

In one elegant swipe, Ember cut the elastic band holding her hair in its design. It had the desired effect, Mace gaped at her. She was sure that the sight of a half-masked Belladonna member with a crazed look in their eye and a scythe in their hand was not something he saw every day. 

Necromancer took advantage of his surprise, dashing forward to hit a well-placed blow against his neck. He crumpled onto the roof, arms dangling limply off the edge and foot twitching against the shingles. 

Ember let an amused breath out before tapping another button, shrinking the weapon so she could properly rifle through his pockets for any supplies. 

The phone in his front pocket was a surprise. It seemed idiotic. 

She looked away from the cellphone to click her tongue at the fallen man with disapproval before grabbing a glove from her belt and sliding it on to examine the device. Ember pressed the home button, eyebrows moving even higher as it opened with no question of a passcode. 

“Oh, so he’s an asshole and cocky, got it,” Ember muttered, flicking through pointless apps before catching sight of the messages.

She had every intention of looking through his messages for information when a call came through. He was probably one to answer calls right away, so it wouldn’t do to stand frozen and decide whether they could track his phone or not. 

Hesitantly, she held it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“Mace,” growled the voice. “You didn’t check in.”

“This isn’t uh,” Ember stuttered, glancing at the owner of the phone with apprehension. “This isn’t Mace.”

“Oh, sorry, honey. You must be one of those poor creatures that he manages to convince than, huh?”

“He’s not...he’s not that bad,” Ember defended, knowing she sounded unconvincing but was hoping it was enough to get the female to believe the assumption.

“If you say so. When he wakes up, tell him Echo called, yeah?”

“Sure,” Ember muttered. 

“Thanks, sweetheart. Enjoy your night.”

The call disconnected and Ember let her hand drop to her leg, jaw hanging unhinged. 

The Talbot-Blacks seemed to be stupid, far too trusting, and recruit unfairly attractive men.


	2. NO DADDY ISSUES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Reaper Pizza Delivery Guy and Healthy Relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a while ago I got the honor of being a beta reader for Martina and we were talking about food. Yes, I'm aware that it is odd but hang on. I had hosted a dinner party like the middleaged teenager I am, and we discussed Cael being a pizza delivery guy. SO GUESS WHAT. I can go far on fan fiction power

Really it hadn’t been Ember’s intention to steal his phone—not with the possible tracking apps and chips in it—but he had started to stir and “here’s your phone, Ecbo called you,” really didn’t seem appropriate. So it was with that excuse in mind that Ember jumped into her alleyway, free falling for no more than a few seconds before her feet touched the plastic top of a dumpster. The sound was barely heard, a testament to years of training, and Ember slunk into the darkness and away from Mace. 

Dodging police and civilians was child’s play at that point and getting back to the covert house the rest of the pack shared was by far the easiest thing she had done that night. The backlight in the alley flickered, allowing anyone who knew the time increments to slip in and out of the shadows like magic.

Ember counted to three under her breath before the light turned off and she rushed forward. She didn’t fancy the stench that clung to the bricks and bags that sullied the stretch of space but for the sake of appearances she put up with it. 

In theory, not checking for anyone behind her before she put her hand on the rusted doorknob was a stupid idea. Which is why when a familiar hand clamped down on her mouth, Ember wasn’t surprised it was a stupid idea in reality too. 

The chest she was pressed against vibrated with silent laughter as she huffed her annoyance.

“Alright, Necromancer,” the voice acquiesced, releasing her. 

She sidestepped an unsavory puddle before turning to face the burly man in front of her. 

“Cain,” Ember scolded, “you didn’t tell any of us you were back from Florida.”

The man shrugged. “Do I need a reason to come see my son and his pack?”

Eyeing the sudden crowd of curious eyes behind him as silent as the night, Ember chose to nod. “Seeing as you appeared to have brought with everyone, I would say yes.”

Cain laughed again, stepping aside for the poor excuse of a light to flash on the visitor’s faces. It wasn’t a surprise that Alis, Cain’s wife, wasn’t there because she was currently inside best instructing Kai on how to not mentally scar their newest orphan, but seeing Dylan and Jaelle there was definitely something new.

They were both wearing the standard uniform of any Belladonna member. Camouflage was a must so the outfit came in a variety of colors but the main colors were dark, the same one they were wearing. Black pants disappeared into combat boots with a grippy sole for running across slippery surfaces (and roofs in Ember’s opinion) while a dark green belt with various pockets held it up. The same green made up the undershirt everyone wore but was covered up with a dark jacket that all but swallowed Jaelle’s petite frame. The silver of the zipper glinted in the streetlight, adding a sense of reality that they were really here. 

A smile was on Ember’s face before she knew it and she pulled the couple into a hug. Jaelle had been Wren’s best friend for a while but it was only a year ago that she had finally met Dylan, helping him in the drug rehabilitation he was just starting. Now they were happily dating, but much preferred a life off the streets after a particularly vicious battle fought against Jaelle’s mother on her Draugen territory. 

Cain moved past Ember toward the door, knocking the code precisely as she continued to look at Dylan and his lady.

“So,” she started, “what brings you back to New Orleans?”

Dylan smiled, reaching one hand over to rest on Jaelle’s stomach. Ember’s own grin faltered as she shifted her gaze down, just now taking in the fact that—

“You’re pregnant?”

“Shush,” Dylan harrumphed, igniting Jaelle’s light laughter at the outburst. “Why don’t you tell the whole town, Necromancer?”

Ember didn’t bother to apologize, knowing it wasn’t that great of an offense. “When? How? What’s it—”

“It,” Jaelle corrected gently, “is a baby girl due any day now. We came back to ask Neoma and Wren to be her godparents.”

Ember swallowed, unsure of how to approach the topic but knowing anything against her curiosity was a losing battle. “Will she join the Belladonna pack?”

Jaelle blinked, taken aback. “I think if she wants to, in time of course. RJ is still quite young, isn’t he? Maybe when Isa asks him I’ll let Ezri—”

The panicked look on her face was enough of a giveaway that it wasn’t the information that was meant to be said but the look of disbelief on Dylan’s face sealed the deal. The baby’s name was Ezri.

Ember groaned. “Kai and Quinn are going to have a field day with that science fiction name. Thanks.”

“Nerds,” Cain whispered mockingly, flashing his son a smile full of fondness before knocking the final code. 

The door swung open to reveal one of the newer members, a tall man with tattoos covering his body. Cael had only just come to us with barely any information he was willing to disclose. We did know that the ink all over him were the names of the people he had killed in his so-called “previous life” and that he would refuse to kill any other people. He seemed to always be in between talking to us and running away, sticking to just grunting and raising one hand when he would go to his job. His job? Pizza delivery.

So it wasn’t a surprise when he glanced at Ember and the others before moving to the side and tilting his head for them to move through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this? Inserting Ezri into a story? I have mystical powers I tell you. And by these such powers of fan fic, I’ve given Wren the dad he deserves and Neoma a better life. So YES I made Ezri have a normal childhood but let’s focus on code name pixie and knight, alright?

**Author's Note:**

> I....I miss Echo


End file.
